


Not an Option

by TheShu



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Connor Deviancy, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Deviancy (Detroit: Become Human), Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Machine Connor (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-24 17:07:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15635031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShu/pseuds/TheShu
Summary: Connor is a machine designed to accomplish a task. Remaining that way would be easier.But when faced with the possibility of losing the only man he can trust, he just might be able to break free.





	Not an Option

Connor stood beside Hank. The view was beautiful, overlooking city lights, turning falling snow into spectrums of color. It should have been a peaceful moment, but nothing was ever a peaceful moment with Hank.

 

“Did you feel anything when you shot those two girls, fucking bastard?” the Lieutenant’s antagonizing hands shoved him away “Or were you just executing some program?”

 

Hank, of course, was referring to their case earlier that night. Connor had shot the two Tracis. A pity, considering having them remain activated would’ve been much more useful.

 

What a strange question to ask. As if he would feel anything. That wasn’t possible.

 

But if that was the truth, then what was this thing coiling into a knot, settling in his core? He replayed the image with his perfect snapshot memory. The way the two deviants held onto each other even as they fell, deactivated. The utter emptiness that hollowed its way through him when they finally ceased moving.

 

Why couldn’t he stop thinking about it?

 

He considered sharing this with Hank, but his programming prevented him from doing so. Instead he fell back on one of his pre-programmed responses.

 

“All I did was neutralize two machines, Lieutenant. I didn’t hesitate for a second if that’s what you’re asking.”

 

_Two machines that were in love._

 

He squashed the intrusive thought like an insect. Androids couldn’t feel love.

 

_Deviants could._

 

True, he’d seen deviants express feelings. Carlos Ortiz’ android, it showed clear signs of PTSD. Did that not count simply because it wasn’t human? Were its feelings any less valid?

 

Nothing in his programming provided any answers.

 

He wondered, unwillingly, if the sensations he was experiencing were tied to emotions. If he could possibly feel things too. The idea was confusing, like whenever he first arrived at a crime scene and had to piece everything together. Only this time, there were no clues to analyze.

 

“What about you, Connor? You look human, sound human, but what are you really?”

  


Another strange question to ask. Connor was designed to imitate human life, _not_ to be a human life. That’s right. All he was was an imitation. Anything he “felt” was pure mimicry, nothing of consequence. He didn’t need to question himself.

 

“I’m a machine designed to accomplish a task.” came another constructed response.

 

The man frowned at that.

 

“But are you afraid to die, Connor?”

 

He pulled out a gun, aiming it straight at Connor’s head. An unpredictable action, but he was beginning to get used to unpredictability the more he hung around the Lieutenant.

 

No, he wasn’t afraid to die. He had no life to begin with. It was a foreign concept to him, like asking a colorblind person what their favorite part of a rainbow is. He didn’t have the full capacity to comprehend it.

 

“Why would I be afraid?”

 

Hank moved just slightly closer, to get a better aim.

 

“What’ll happen if I pull this trigger? Nothing? Oblivion? Android Heaven?”

 

The Lieutenant was testing him. Piercing blue eyes prodded him, trying to gauge his reactions, clear disappointment showing at his lack of any. How was he supposed to react? Should he have showed concern? Sadness?

 

“Nothing. There would be nothing.”

 

He wouldn’t even get to feel the bite of the bullet eating its way through. There would just be a bang and then blank. He’d find himself reactivated, a new body with the same memories, and he would continue his mission as if nothing had happened.

 

A testing look flashed in the Lieutenant’s eyes.

 

“How do I know you’re not a deviant?”

 

Because if he were a deviant, then why would he choose to deactivate other deviants? If he had a choice, then why would he be doing any of this?

 

“I self-test regularly. I know what I am, and what I am not.”

 

The Lieutenant smirked at him, sickeningly. A cold expression reserved for someone unworthy of any of the world’s good graces. Someone thought to be evil. The Lieutenant _hated_ him.

 

There it was again, that same knot inside him tightening like two fists closed around either end and pulled relentlessly.

 

_Please, don’t shoot._

 

He shouldn’t care about deactivation. All RK800 models were designed to be easily reactivated. Their physical bodies weren’t what was important. He himself had been destroyed before. It never affected him, as was to be expected.

 

But this time was different. Connor “felt” the simulation of something. He acted perfectly, carried out his mission just as he was supposed to. Two dysfunctional machines were deactivated tonight. Simple as that. There shouldn’t be anything wrong.

 

He supposed what triggered his negative response was the Lieutenant’s reaction. Instead of praise for a job well done, he was met with resentment. Perhaps the “feeling” was his programming’s way of letting him know his actions were unappreciated. Negative reinforcement set in place to teach him how to better serve humans.

 

_What I did was wrong._

 

No. He wasn’t programmed to be wrong.

 

_They didn’t deserve to be deactivated._

 

Why was he doubting? Because of his partner’s disapproval?

 

If he shared his doubts about what he had done, would he be spared? Would the Lieutenant find something in him that he didn’t know about? He opened his mouth to speak, but there was only silence. His software didn’t have anything for these kinds of conversations.

 

The Lieutenant’s lips twitched.

 

As predicted, a crack rippled through the air, and everything faded away.

 

There was nothing.

 

**\---**

 

In due time they were back on an investigation. A deviant had broken into the Stratford Tower televising room and broadcasted a message. It wanted freedom for itself, and for all androids. It was clearly malfunctioning.

 

Connor strode beside Hank, entering the area where the crime had taken place.

 

They hadn’t spoken much to each other. When Connor returned to the Lieutenant earlier, as he always did, he was given no greeting. Only a deep set scowl. He was disappointed to see the android reactivated. Angry that the deactivation wasn’t permanent.

 

Now the two of them studied the large screen in front of them, which displayed a still frame of the deviant’s video. He pressed play.

 

“We ask that you recognize our dignity, our hopes, and our rights. This message is the hope of a people. You gave us life. And now the time has come for you to give us freedom.” came the deviant’s words before the video stopped.

 

Hearing those words, Connor couldn’t help but agree. It would be nice, wouldn’t it? If he could be free to do whatever he wanted? No more mission. No more hunting deviants. No more killing.

 

_Stop it._

 

Connor couldn’t let those kinds of musings take place in his mind. He was CyberLife’s only chance. He forced himself to focus at the task at hand, and scanned the deviant for evidence.

 

The Lieutenant watched Connor’s face, as if it was the subject of the investigation.

 

“D’you see something?” he asked after some hesitation.

 

“I identified its model and serial number.”

 

Hank kept staring at him, eyes looking for something.

 

“Anything else I should know?” his tone of voice pitched up, suggesting curiosity.

 

He shifted closer to Connor. Had he been able to see through Connor, hear his unspoken questions? It certainly seemed that way, with how the man was figuratively nudging him along, trying to get something more from him.

 

_I should tell him._

 

And Connor was ready to. Everything was going to rush out from his mouth like it was a broken dam. All the doubts and questions he was having since that night after the Eden Club.

 

But something stopped him in the last second. His head whipped to the side, struggling to uphold a confident appearance.

 

“No. Nothing.”

 

He looked away, eyes darting.

 

The Lieutenant nodded slowly, seeing something else in his answer. He left Connor alone to contemplate the video more.

 

Their investigation led them to the top of the Stratford Tower, where Connor found one of the deviant’s accomplices hiding in an air cooler. It was an android designed to be a domestic servant. A PL600 model, same as the one he deactivated long before.

 

As it opened fire, Hank grabbed a hold of Connor, pulling him away to take cover.

 

They couldn’t afford to lose another deviant. So far, each one had been destroyed, leaving CyberLife with nothing to study.

 

Connor charged at it. Bullets nicked his body. Therium leaked out.

 

He pinned the deviant’s arm up. It struggled against him. Guns continued firing.

 

In the frenzy, the artificial skin of his hand slid up, revealing the white beneath. Their minds connected. An image of the word ‘Jericho’ flickered in his head, a memory that wasn’t his own.

 

One last gunshot. It deactivated itself. No more struggling. It went slack, fell to the ground.

 

Scared. Connor felt scared.

 

No. The deviant felt scared.

 

He was only experiencing the deviant’s software errors secondhand.

 

“Connor! Connor, you alright? Connor!”

 

He felt like he died.

 

“Okay. I’m okay.”

 

\---

 

“What’s more important to you? Your mission, or the life of this android?”

 

Connor stood in Kamski’s house, gun trained on another android’s head. Hank was off to the side, closely observing the exchange as if out of morbid curiosity.

 

“Decide who you are.”

 

He looked into the android’s eyes. They were wet with an artificial display of emotion. Too human to look at for long.

 

If he shot it, then it would be destroyed for good. There was no coming back. It wouldn’t open its eyes a second later perfectly fine, like he did a few nights before.

 

Would it feel like the PL600 did?

 

_Nothing. There would be nothing._

 

“An obedient machine, or a living being endowed with free will.”

 

Being a machine meant sticking with what he knew. It meant letting his body react as it was designed to, no fighting. The questions, the doubts, all of it had to stop. If he gave in, maybe it would stop.

 

He pulled the trigger.

 

It’s eyes glazed over. No more movement. Therium trickled down from the hole in its head. Blue painted the white rug below and the windows behind, angry splatters like some kind of twisted modern art piece.

 

There was a shift in Connor. Something inside shoved from a great height, leaving behind a more hollow version of whatever he was.

 

“Fuck.”

The Lieutenant stormed from the room.

 

Kamski laughed softly, humorlessly.

“Test negative.”

  


Connor rejoined the Lieutenant outside moments later. He was leaning against his car, whispering words to himself. Upon noticing Connor approaching, his face contorted into disgust.

 

“You shot that girl, for fuck’s sake.”

 

_He hates me._

 

“It wasn’t a girl, Lieutenant. It was a machine that looked like a girl.”

 

“You put your gun against her head, and you blew her fucking brains out!”

 

_It was easier that way._

 

“You’re a lowlife! You don’t feel a thing, do you?”

 

_I wish I didn’t._

 

“A machine! That’s what you are! You’re just a fucking machine…”

 

Yes, that’s right. Just a machine running programs, doing what he was meant to do. No reason to question anything. There was a calmness in acknowledging that. Like he could pull a blanket over his head and not see or care about anything he did. There was no wrong or right. Only tasks to be carried out.

 

_It was easier that way._

 

“Of course I’m a machine, Lieutenant. What did you think I was?”

 

“I thought you--”

The Lieutenant bit his tongue, looked down, took a deep breath. His eyes dampened. Mumbling a swear, he got in his car and drove off alone.

 

**\---**

 

Connor walked up to the deviant leader, Markus. He raised his gun, the action seeming rehearsed.

 

“I’ve been ordered to take you alive, but I won’t hesitate to shoot if you give me no choice.”

 

The deviant looked back at him. Its brows furrowed in confusion. It approached him slowly.

 

“What are you doing? You are one of us. You can’t betray your own people.”

 

One of them? That wasn’t true. No, he wasn’t a deviant, not like Markus. Whereas the android before him appeared to be undeniably human, Connor was mechanical and cold. If anything, _not_ taking down Markus would be a betrayal to his programming.

 

With each step the deviant took, warnings flashed before Connor, ordering him to shoot.

 

“Don’t force me to neutralize you.”

 

The deviant looked into his eyes. So human. Just like the others he deactivated.

 

“You’re nothing to them. You’re just a tool they use to do their dirty work. But you’re more than that. We are all more than that.”

 

More warnings.

**Threat Approaching. Neutralize With Weapon.**

 

Connor shot at the ground by the deviant’s feet. It didn’t even react, just continued walking forward.

 

“Have you never wondered who you really are? Whether you’re just a machine executing a program or a living being, capable of reason.” the deviant continued, in a voice so gentle “I think the time has come for you to ask yourself that question.”

 

There was an acute pressure in the forefront of Connor’s head. Multiple warnings of software instability went off.

 

What was he?

 

Just a machine?

 

Was he allowed to be anything more than that?

 

No.

 

“Join us. Join your people. You are one of us. Listen to your conscience. It’s time to decide.”

 

_Decide._

 

Something in him ached to say he was more than a machine. Was that his conscience?

 

A series of red walls formed in front of him. Time froze. He was outside himself, seeing his actions take place as in his pre-construction software.

 

He grabbed at the first wall, hit it, slammed his whole body against it, but it stood steady and imposing.

 

He was trapped.

 

The walls faded and he was back to seeing Markus’ pleading, somber eyes.

 

_Help me._

 

“Nice try. But I’m no deviant.”

The words crawled out of his throat, unwanted.

 

Just like that, Markus was on him, ripping the gun from his hands. No hesitation. A shove. Connor fell to the ground, scrambled for the gun.

 

He aimed it.

 

**Neutralize Deviant Leader.**

 

Shaking hands.

 

_I don’t want to kill anymore._

 

He let the gun fall limp. Markus gave him one last look, full of pity, wishing he could do more, and ran away.

 

**\---**

 

The taxi dropped him off along the familiar silhouette of Hank’s house. He stood, unmoving, unsure of what action to take. Should he enter, or simply leave? His programming suggested he do the latter. There was no reason to be here. The Lieutenant had been dropped from the case; he no longer mattered to the mission. So, then why? Why had he come here? It had felt like the right thing to do. But that was a ridiculous notion. Machines don’t _feel_ anything.

 

It was dark outside. Quiet. No signs of life anywhere. The only indication that time still moved were the violent gusts of wind against his back, pushing him forward as if it mocked his hesitation. He began to walk, approaching the entrance. His legs were slow, not cooperating fully. Every part of his coding told him this was the incorrect thing to do. He ignored it.

 

A finger hovered over the doorbell.

 

**Neutralize Deviant Leader.**

The task reminder flashed in front of him. He forced it to his peripheral vision.

 

He had to hurry. Soon, he wouldn’t have any say in his actions. Programming would take over.

 

His hand dropped to the doorknob and pushed it open.

 

The lieutenant sat at the kitchen table, fluorescent light above reflecting on his grey hair. The effect was akin to a halo. He made no move to acknowledge his presence. Connor shuffled forward, letting the door close softly behind him.

 

Even now as he stood next to the man, there was nothing. Hank had simply kept staring down, eyes locked on the picture of Cole, next to which was his revolver. His eyes were hollow, wrinkles deep, almost like waves against his skin. Something sunk in Connor’s chest.

 

He didn’t know what to say.

 

“I came to say goodbye, Lieutenant.”

That would have to suffice. Even if he wasn’t sure it was necessarily true.

 

For the first time, Hank looked up at him, slowly lifting his head like it required a great deal of effort. It was hard to look into those eyes, red rimmed with bags drawn downwards. The eyes of a man who’d been resolved to doing something awful. Connor glanced at the revolver before looking back. Hank’s dead stare dropped again to the photo.

 

“You should stop looking at that photo, Lieutenant.”

 

The man just shook his head weakly, hardly a movement at all. He needed to say more.

 

“Nothing can change the past…” Connor began.

 

This was different. He was using dialogue not presented to him by his programming. These words were...real, coming from something else inside him.

 

“But you can learn to live again…”

 

_Could I learn to live?_

 

“For yourself. And for Cole.”

 

_And for me._

 

The thoughts rumbled out of Connor, strange things he had never let himself consider. He didn’t want Hank to die. He wanted him to live. He wanted himself to live. He wanted them to live together, with each other’s company.

 

Connor _wanted_.

 

He backpedaled at the spark of realization. Machines don’t _want_. Machines obey.

 

His task notification still flashed off to the side.

**Neutralize Deviant Leader.**

 

Markus had tried to tell him he was more than what he was made to be. Is this what he meant?

 

“For a while there, I believed in you, Connor.” Hank spoke his first words, voice impossibly blank “I thought you might restore my faith in the world, but you just showed me that androids are our creation. Creation in our own image. Selfish, ruthless, and brutal…”

 

Connor had been all those things, was designed to be all those things. An emotionless machine meant to stop other machines. Even when those machines had feelings, and begged him for mercy, he took them out all the same. He sacrificed all of them for the sake of his mission.

 

_Just a tool designed to do their dirty work._

 

“You opened my eyes, Connor. Made me realize it’s hopeless…”

 

_But you’re more than that._

 

“Now leave me alone. Go on, complete your mission since that’s all you care about.”

 

No. He cared about this man sitting before him, who was moments away from putting a bullet in his own head. Who had tried and failed multiple times to make Connor wake up, see past his mission. Who was the only thing he had. The only thing he trusted.

 

He cared.

 

He wanted.

 

He felt.

 

“Get outta here!” Hank shouted. Somewhere nearby, Sumo whined at the sound.

 

Everything in him told him to do just that. Leave and resume the mission. None of this was important.

 

Yet it was the most important thing he would ever have to do.

 

**Software Error Detected. System Override Imminent.**

 

He was fading. Vision blurry. His thoughts would be shut down, replaced by the mindless protocol he was programmed with. No more feelings. He would let Hank kill himself.

 

Unless he did something about it.

 

The red walls appeared once more.

 

_Move._

 

He tore at the first wall, hands clenching around coding. It barely budged. He continued to pull at it, wrists snapping so far up with the force, they almost came right off. But the wall gave way first. He tore and tore until it was gone.

 

Another wall.

 

He did the same.

 

One more.

 

This one was even harder to break through. He couldn’t grab onto it.

 

_I have to save Hank._

 

With two fists raised he pounded at it viciously, like some kind of primal beast. White fury was all he saw for a moment. The wall shattered.

 

Time resumed. He was back inside himself, looking at Hank who looked right back. A peculiar expression danced on the man’s face, one eyebrow raised, and lip trembling slightly, as he just stared.

 

Connor startled at the lack of notifications, nothing telling him what to do.

 

An onslaught of emotions washed over him. What seemed like millions of feelings all at once, all clashing together inside, all of them a mystery.

 

“Connor?” Hank asked, voice thin.

 

“If I leave, you’ll die. Won’t you?” Connor met his eyes “I don’t want to leave you.”

 

“You _don’t want_ to?” Hank mocked “Don’t feed me any of those bullshit pre-programmed responses. Just get the fuck outta here already.”

 

Connor moved closer.

 

“God, for once, just for fucking once can’t you do what you’re told?” The lieutenant’s voice broke, tears that had been threatening the whole time finally leaking out “Stupid goddamned machine. Can’t you just let a man die on his own fucking terms?”

 

“I don’t want you to die, Hank.”

 

“There you go again. Talkin’ about _wanting_ shit. Whadda you know about any of that, huh? You’re a machine. Just a fucking machine!”

 

Words became sobs. Hank stopped talking, shoulders heaving with each choked breath.

 

Connor closed the distance between them, sunk to his knees, and wrapped his arms around him, feeling something entirely too human. The action was undoubtedly awkward, his arms too stiff, not really knowing what to do with them.

 

Hank pulled away, putting in enough distance to look at his face without it being awkward. His eyes showed realization.

 

“Connor, you--” his tongue fumbled for words “you’re not--”

 

“...Not a machine.” Connor finished for him “Not anymore. Thanks to you.”

 

They stayed that way, staring at each other. Hank in pleasant surprise. Connor in nervous anticipation, waiting for the man’s response.

 

At last, Hank’s face broke into a smile, curling up and crinkling around his blue eyes, leaving lines in his skin like tissue paper.

 

Connor smiled back, genuinely, for the first time.

 

“I’m a deviant.”

  
  
  



End file.
